


Three O'Clock

by hunters_retreat



Series: The Clock Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean goes with Sam to Stanford, M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-07
Updated: 2009-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: Sam reminds Dean that it's been too long since he had anything of his own.





	

 

Dean took a long pull from the water bottle as he looked around the apartment.  It wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d had in longer than he cared to remember; mostly because remembering meant a fire and everything in his life burning around him.  In 18 years he’d never complained to his Dad about wanting a place to rest for a little while, about wanting a place to call his own.  He didn’t talk about it much, but he remembered Before, Before that was always a capital B in his head.  Just like it was always Sammy in his head, even if he said Sam out loud.  Some things just were and you didn’t fight it. 

 

 

But he remembered a room of his own, remembered toys and a bed that he fell to sleep in every night.  He remembered their mother and father coming in to kiss him goodnight and Dad disappearing to check on Sammy while Mom kissed him one more time and told him fairytales about angels and how they watched over him.  He’d believed her back then.  He stopped after the fire though, stopped because at 4 he believed in angels and knew that they’d been watching out for him instead of his mom and he’d make sure that never happened again.  He’d make sure that the angels didn’t need to look out for him.  Not only that, he’d make sure his family never needed angels again.  He’d be everything they needed.

 

 

It had taken a couple days and nights hustling to get the deposit money, but between them they’d hit a few bars a night for a week to get it.  During the day they’d done their apartment hunting with Sam going to his orientation a day after their arrival.  He’d come back grinning and happier than Dean could remember, for a few minutes forgetting about the scene with their Dad and just being happy about where they were.  It hadn’t lasted long, Sam being who he was and needing to be emo about something.  Still, it meant something to Dean and he remembered it now as he felt his back stiffen up and ignored the desire for a beer.

 

 

The place had pale wood floors and white walls, bare but clean and the kitchen came with a fridge and microwave the last tenant had left.  Other than that they had been on their own though.  So with a few days to kill and a lot of second hand stores to choose from, they’d managed to get just about everything they needed.  Dean was feeling a little smug about the way everything was set up.  He’d rented a truck so he could pick up the furniture since he couldn’t well use his credit cards and give them the address.  He and Sam had taken the truck to all their stops and then carried everything up to the second story apartment.  Beneath them was the garage that housed the Impala.  The building had another two apartments to the other side of them, but they hadn’t met the neighbors yet. 

 

 

Dean threw the hammer back into the tool box Sam had bought them in and looked back at the shelves he’d finished earthquake proofing.  He didn’t know how often they got quakes here, but the last thing he needed was for Sam to get killed by a freak book avalanche.  If the boy was determined to have bookcases beside his bed, well then Dean just had to make sure.  He shuffled out of Sam’s room and had to keep his feet moving at that thought, Sam’s room.  In all their years, it was really a first.  They’d been places with an extra room before, but Dad didn’t normally pay extra for a room and he and Sam had shared most of their lives. 

 

 

It was a good thing.  The boy needed a place of his own.  A place he could go to study when Dean was being obnoxious and a place where he could have a little privacy.  It was something Dean had never considered for himself, but he knew Sam needed it. 

 

 

“Wow.”

 

 

He looked over at the door and saw Sam standing there, arms full of shopping bags.  “Need some help?”  He asked, moving to grab some of the bags before Sam could answer.

 

 

They dumped the bags on the kitchen counter and Sam smiled at him.  “The place looks great.” 

 

 

Dean smiled back at him.  It really did.  They found an old kitchen table with 4 chairs at a garage sale and it was cleaned up and placed neatly in front of the bay window that was so popular in the neighborhood.  Next to the dining area, because it wasn’t really a room of it’s own so he could only call it an area, was the living area.  Sam found the couch at a second hand store and had been haggling the price when Dean walked in, wiping grease off his hands after helping the delivery guy with his truck.  That got them the chair and a footstool thrown in for free.  The Dark blue fabric looked like it would hide a lot of sins and it was sturdy.  They were set up in an L shape facing the television they’d bought.  No second hand store there.  Dean had splurged on the TV and even got them a DVD player and a few DVDs to start them out.    

 

 

The mattresses in their rooms were new too, though the box springs and bed frames weren’t.  Sam had insisted on that, and new linens.  Dean started to argue but Sam said just once he wanted new sheets and he couldn’t argue that point.  Especially not just before he was about to buy the new TV.  It had all still been just haphazardly thrown around when Sam had left for the grocery store though.  Dean had used his time well and had everything set up before Sam got back.  There were a few things to hang up, like a few paintings Sam had found in the thrift shops, but the big stuff was up.

 

 

“Yeah, I think it’s gonna be pretty nice here Sammy.”  He said, beginning to take the food out of the bags. 

 

 

“Oh, right, groceries.”  He said, heading back out the door to get the rest.

 

 

 

 

It’d been a while since they’d been anyplace they’d be in long enough to need these sort of supplies.  They’d spent three days making a list, jotting things down as they remembered they would need them.  Apparently Sam had taken the list and worked his way through it pretty well.  Dean just pulled things out, putting things away as he could and setting aside the things that went in the other room.  He took one of the paper bags and filled it with all the school supplies that Sam had bought and set it to one side.  Sam hadn’t seen that Dean set up his bed and desk yet and he was betting he’d get a pretty great reaction for that one.

 

 

When they had all the groceries put away Sam walked into the living room and smiled.  “I think we need a marathon Dean.”  He said.

 

 

Dean laughed.  “Which kind?”

 

 

“The Star Wars kind.”  There was a light in Sam’s eyes as he said it and Dean couldn’t help but respond in kind.

 

 

“Maybe, but come on in and see what I did.”  He wasn’t entirely comfortable about showing off the rooms to Sam, but this was their first place together, the first place either of them had been able to call home since Mom’s death, so he wanted to see his reaction to everything.  He’d never get the chance again. 

 

 

He grabbed the bag of supplies and motioned Sam forward as he walked into his own room.  His bed and the small dresser they’d found for him were set up, the bed opposite the door and the dresser on the other wall underneath a window.  A framed vintage looking Dracula poster hung on the wall and a rug of black and grays sat on the floor, looking just as good as Sam had said they would. 

 

 

Sam sat on the full sized bed, black sheets crisp and soft, as he looked at the room.  “How long has it been since you had your own room Dean?”  He asked.

 

 

Dean shrugged from the doorway but knew better than stay silent on this one.  “18 years.”

 

 

Sam got up, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder as he reached him.  “18 years too long.”

 

 

Dean rolled his eyes to try to keep his smile in check.  “Check out your room.”

 

 

He took an extra second to look at his own room before following Sam into his.  He didn’t look at Sam when he walked in, but dumped the bag of supplies on the table he’d set up in there.  He started grabbing the pens and pencils and putting them in the desk organizer he’d managed to slip into their purchases without Sam noticing. 

 

 

He felt Sam behind him and when Sam’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him back tight against his chest he didn’t fight it.  Sam was a little emo shit most of the time, but the happy emo stuff Dean was willing to let by today.  “Thank you.”

 

 

There were just a few books on the bookshelves that sat next to Sam’s bed, but a few hadn’t been in their possession before and Dean had bought them, thinking Sam would need them.  Like a new dictionary and thesaurus.  The painting Sam had picked for his room was a blue and green abstract piece that looked a little bit like water when Dean looked at it.  He had a matching rug on the floor and blue sheets to match.  The table was solid wood, one of those great finds but it had been a bitch to move up.  It was the only piece of furniture in the apartment that had been taken directly to its location when they got it up the steps and they decided to leave it there until they moved out. It was just too heavy to be worth moving again.

 

 

All in all, Sam was happy and so was Dean.  He didn’t know what else to say about that.  “Just a room you geek.”

 

 

“No.  No it’s not.”  Sam said, his head lowered slightly so he was whispered right behind Dean’s ear.  “All those years, I kept thinking I just wanted a home, more than anything else, and it was the one thing you could never give me.  I always thought I needed Dad to do that. But I was wrong.  You gave me home.  It wouldn’t have been, without you here.  Thank you.”

 

 

He let one hand reach up and pull Sam’s arm tighter for a minute.  It might be stupid and maybe if they were anyone other than the Winchester brothers, they wouldn’t have thought a thing about it.  But they were who they were and sitting in their apartment with all their things set out, getting ready to hang out on the couch and watch movies?  Yeah.  That was something big. 

 

 

He felt Sam’s nose nuzzle into the back of his head and he thought about swatting his brother away, but it felt good to relax a few minutes, just taking comfort in the warmth of his brother and knowing he’d done the right thing coming all the way with Sam.  “Alright Sammy.  It’s only three o’ clock and your emo allowance is all used up.  I think we should take a break and start that marathon.”

 

 

Sam let him go and flopped down on the couch, one long leg stretched out and the other bent, as Dean grabbed the first DVD and put it in.  He sat on the floor right in front of Sam, his head leaning back slightly against his brother’s knee as he liked.  He got distracted from movies sometimes if he was in a position to watch Sam all the time but he got antsy if he couldn’t keep an eye on him.  It was something that had started as kids and he’d never gotten rid of.  So now he sat where Sam had to touch him.  Sam jumped up quickly, darkening the room as he pulling the blinds closed.  He went to the kitchen then and grabbed two beers and handed one to Dean as he sat back down.  Dean took a sip, smiling as he did, and then pushed the play button.

 

 

They both began to relax into the movie but it wasn’t until Dean set his head back against Sam’s leg that his brother’s body went soft.  He felt Sam shift slightly and then Dean began to relax as well when Sam’s fingers found their way into his hair, scratching and pulling and caressing without Sam even being aware of what he was doing.  They watched the movies until dinner time and ordered pizza to celebrate, then finished the marathon.  When the next morning came, they were both still in the living room, passed out on the floor together with Sam’s hand still in Dean’s hair and Dean’s arm wrapped possessively around Sam’s wrist. 

 


End file.
